


Let Me Breathe

by ephemeralstark



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Anaphylaxis, Gen, Hurt Peter, Hurt/Comfort, Peter Parker Calls Tony Stark "Dad", Protective Tony Stark, Sickfic, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-17
Updated: 2019-11-17
Packaged: 2021-02-08 01:27:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21467782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ephemeralstark/pseuds/ephemeralstark
Summary: It's winter and Peter is spending the weekend at the tower, too bad he has a life threatening reaction to clint's famous festive hot chocolate.Spiders never did like peppermint.
Relationships: Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 454





	Let Me Breathe

**Author's Note:**

> this is just a little something that was playing on my mind

“It’s Friday!” Peter shouted as he launched himself at the window of Stark Tower that would lead him to the Avenger’s communal area. It opened seconds before he collided with it and he tucked into a roll before standing up smoothly, “and that was the work of F.R.I.D.A.Y., great timing as usual.” 

“Thank you Peter,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. replied. “Mr. Stark is on his way up from his lab, he would like me to inform you that he  _ will _ figure out how you managed to alter my programme so I would not open the window until the last possible moment.”

“Sure he will,” Peter mumbled as he pulled off his Spider-Man mask, he shot a glance upwards towards the ceiling, “hey, Mr. Barton.”

“Shit, kid,” Clint muttered as he dropped down to the floor from a vent, “how do you do that?”

“If I told you, I’d have to kill you.” Peter said with a grin as he snagged an apple off the countertop and bit into it. 

“You’re such a cocky little-”

“Careful Barton,” Tony said sauntering into the room, “Underoos is only twelve, he shouldn't be hearing any cursing at his delicate young age.”

“Mr. Stark,” Peter whined, elongating the vowel, “I’m fifteen.”

“He says as though that’s any better.” Mr. Stark narrated, before he fixed his gaze on Peter, “by the way kiddo, how the hell did you manage to hack F.R.I.?” 

“Hacking is a harsh way to phrase it,” Peter said, “I prefer unauthorised alterations.” 

“Of course you do.” Tony mumbled, shaking his head. “Get an intern, they said. It’ll make your life easier, they said. Not once did they mention the wrinkles and the grey hairs that come with it.”

“Mr. Stark, you only made me your intern officially so that we would have a decent cover story for when people became suspicious.” Peter said rolling his eyes. 

“From one parent to another,” Clint spoke up, “you’re stuck with them, so if you can’t beat ‘em, then I say join ‘em. What’s your poison today, kid?”

“Yes!” Peter cheered. “See Mr. Stark, Mr. Barton is on my side, and I think I’m in the mood for a hot chocolate.”

“How about my festive special?” Clint asked. “Nat is picking up the rest of the guys and I promised them a Christmas themed drink.”

“Sounds good to me,” Peter said with a wide grin. “It was cold swinging over here, so might as well have something tasty to warm up.”

“Fine, you guys win, no more talk of hacking or interning,” Tony said with a shrug. “I’ll have one too Barton. So, how was school kid?”

“Pretty good, I asked MJ to the Christmas dance and she said no,” Peter said. 

“Oof, that’s rough.” Tony said shaking his head in sympathy. 

“No, it’s fine, turns out she’s not going to the Christmas dance because they’re ‘lame’ and ‘only losers go to them’ and she ‘still has dignity thank you very much’, but she did find me later on and ask me on a date.” Peter said nonchalantly. 

“Kid! How are you so calm?” Tony asked. 

“I agree with Stark, we’ve been listening to you fawn over this girl for months and now you finally have a date, you’re playing it cool?” Clint asked. 

Peter couldn't contain it any longer, he had tried so hard to appear chill but in reality he was practically vibrating with excitement. 

“I was trying my best but oh my god! I have a date with MJ! MJ!” He shouted, making Tony jump minutely. “Where should I take her? What should I wear? Should I call her? Oh my god I should call her right now and-”

“No!” Tony interrupted quickly, “let’s not do that. When is this date?” 

“Next weekend,” Peter said, “but that’s a week away, that’s not enough time to prepare. What if it’s not good enough, what if I grow a beard and need to shave and cut myself shaving and have to wear a brown paper bag like the Grinch did? Should I tell her I love her or is that too forward?” 

“Woah, who does the kid love?” Steve asked walking in with the rest of the Avengers. 

“Is it that girl Em he’s been talking about non stop?” Bruce asked. 

“MJ,” corrected Natasha, “you need to remember these things, Bruce, you’re an Avenger. Remembering things can be the difference between life and death.”

“I don’t think anyone will die for forgetting Petey’s girlfriend’s name,” Tony said with a smirk. 

“Girlfriend?” Natasha asked. 

“Not yet,” Peter said with a groan, “we have a date next week.”

“And you were debating whether or not to tell her you love her?” Steve asked raising an eyebrow. 

“Maybe?” 

“Right, I think it’s time for a distraction.” Clint said, “everyone grab a stool. My famous festive hot chocolates are incoming.”

“These got me through a fair few missions,” Natasha said as she grabbed a seat opposite Peter, “there was this one year when Clint and I were in Russia and you have no  _ idea _ how cold it was. I swear I was cold in places I didn't even know existed.”

“I lost one of my little toes on that mission,” Clint said. 

“Frostbite?” Peter asked. 

“What? No, our target stuck a dagger in my snow boot,” Clint said, “now my snow boots are coated in steel. Not that I ever plan to return there in the winter, but you never know what life is going to throw at you.” 

“I-” Peter faltered, glancing to Mr. Stark for help with a response, but the older man just shrugged. Peter’s response was weak, “oh cool.” 

“Right, here we have it, six of my world famous festive hot chocolates.” Clint declared. 

“Can something be world famous if you’re a secret spy,” Peter asked before picking up his mug. 

Tony took a sip, his eyes widening, “this is pretty good, but-” he dropped his mug, “Peter don’t!” 

It was too late, Peter had lowered the mug from his mouth and was wiping away the chocolatey milk moustache it had left behind. 

Almost instantly a flush began to appear on his cheeks and he took in a few wheezing breaths, his shirt was tight, why was it so tight? He tugged at the neck of it, desperately trying to loosen it up so that he could catch his breath again. 

“Tony?” Steve asked, he hadn't noticed Peter’s struggles, he was more concerned by Tony’s mess. 

“Peter?” Tony asked frantically, ignoring Steve’s questioning glance. “Pete, look at me please.”

Peter did and Tony almost regretted asking him to do so. The fear in Peter’s eyes was heartbreaking.

“M-M. Starr-” Peter tried to say but couldn't get the air out to say the words properly. 

“Don’t say anything,” Tony said quickly. “F.R.I?” 

“Helen Cho has been notified and is preparing the med bay, she also suggested you use an EpiPen.” F.R.I.D.A.Y. updated him. 

“Great suggestion,” Tony snapped, “not like I hadn’t thought about that but he’s in his suit and I didn't design it with pockets.” 

He stood up, pulling Peter off the stool, the other Avengers moving to stand as well, not knowing what to do, but knowing that there was something wrong if Cho was preparing the medbay. 

Peter couldn't hold himself up, his legs instantly gave way and Tony grunted as he was left supporting Peter’s weight. 

“T’ny,” Peter wheezed out, “s’ry.”

“Shh, don't talk.” Tony said. “You have absolutely nothing to apologise for, let’s just get you to Cho. Cap?” 

Steve jumped forward, taking Peter’s weight from Tony and lifting him effortlessly into his arms. 

“Spiders don't like peppermint,” Tony explained as he led them to the elevator, “Barton’s secret ingredient is a dash of peppermint in his hot chocolate. Peter and I had discussed all the things that can create a negative effect on spiders and peppermint had come up. We agreed to avoid it, rather than chancing a bad reaction.” 

“So you didn't know he’d react like this?” Natasha asked. 

“Why would I?” 

“You mentioned an epi-pen.” 

“We got one for him just in case he ever found himself in a situation like this, but that was a long time ago and he’s obviously stopped keeping it on him.” Tony said. “We had theorised a few potential reactions, this being one of the more extreme ones.”

Tony glanced at Peter while the elevator moved. His lips were beginning to turn blue and he had a clammy sheen on his forehead. 

“Hang in there, Underoos,” Tony murmured as the elevator doors opened, “you’re nearly there.”

Dr. Cho and her team were ready, before Steve had even lay Peter down on the hospital bed she moved forward and stabbed a pen against Peter’s thigh. For a moment Tony was worried that the Spider-Suit would hinder the EpiPen’s abilities, but his concern turned out to be unnecessary as Peter suddenly took a deep, wheezing breath. 

“Great,” Dr. Cho said, “now get him on the bed. I want ten litres of oxygen through a face mask and IV access. Once his oxygen saturations are stable switch him to a saline nebuliser and let’s help that wheeze.”

“C’mon, Tony,” Bruce said, pulling gently at his sleeve, “we need to let them work.”

Tony took a few steps back but refused to move any further, watching intently as a blood pressure cuff was wrapped around Peter’s arm and a sensor placed on his finger. Peter kept glancing towards Tony, his scared eyes looking younger with most of his face obscured by the face mask. 

“Oxygen saturations 91%,” a woman said. 

“Give him a dose of IV adrenaline 500 micrograms.”Dr. Cho instructed. “Turn the oxygen up to 15 litres and put on a non re-breathe mask.”

A moment passed, Tony fought the urge to move forward and stroke a hand through Peter’s hair reassuringly. 

“Saturations 98% and holding stable.” 

“Great,” Dr. Cho said, “let’s hold off on that nebuliser for now, I’m not happy we had to turn up the oxygen, he was in a worse state than I thought.”

“Will he be alright?” Tony asked hoarsely.

“Absolutely,”Dr. Cho said, “you were quick in getting him here, of course you shouldn't be moving someone having an anaphylactic attack and his blood pressure took a hit thanks to it, but we wouldn't have had the facilities up there to ensure his safety.” 

“Yeah,” Tony murmured, mentally preparing to have at least three EpiPens hidden in every room in the tower. 

“Tony, do you want a seat?” Bruce offered. 

“No, I’m good here,” Tony said, as soon as Peter was stable enough he would be by his side. 

“We need to get the suit off to put on cardiac monitoring, how do we go about this?” Cho asked Tony. 

“Hey, guys,” Tony said to the Avengers, “Pete’s probably going to be embarrassed about all of this, would you mind waiting outside while we get his suit off?” 

Once they had all left, Tony moved closer to Peter, afraid to touch him for fear of causing more harm but knowing that he needed to help. 

“Alright, Underoos, let’s do this.” Peter looked at him with trusting, tear-filled eyes and Tony sucked it up. This was his kid and he was sick.

Peter tried his best to help him, but his movements were weak and shaky, leaving most of the work to Tony and Dr. Cho. 

“Sorry,” Peter mumbled, his voice muffled by exhaustion and his oxygen mask. 

“Hey, no apologising,” Tony said, he was secretly relieved that Peter had enough air to speak. “This wasn't your fault, this was nobody’s fault.”

After a few minutes of fumbling and struggling, Peter was attached to a cardiac monitoring system and kitted out with a hospital gown. 

Time passed, and the other avengers took their turns popping in to see how things were going. Thankfully Peter’s super healing seemed to kick in and his oxygen mask was replaced by a nasal cannula as it was weaned down. Dr. Cho planned to keep him in the MedBay overnight but said that he no longer required such close monitoring. 

Despite this Tony refused to leave. 

He was going to stay with his kid no matter what. 

“Mr. Stark?” Peter whispered, the wheeze barely detectable any more. 

“Hey kid, you feeling alright?” Tony asked. 

“Yeah, I was just going to say it’s getting late.” Peter said quietly. “Shouldn't you head to bed?” 

“I’m not leaving you, Underoos.” Tony said. 

“You can’t sleep in that chair,” Peter said with a small frown. 

“Sure I can, my back has been through worse.” Tony said. 

“Nuh uh,” Peter mumbled and started shuffling in the bed. 

“Hey, kiddo, what are you doing? Don't you dare get up!”

“Mr. Stark calm down,” Peter said rolling his eyes, “I’m making room.”

“Room?” Tony asked. 

“Yeah, if you’re going to stay with me, you may as well be comfortable.” Peter said, indicating to the space he’d made next to him. 

“Kid, you don’t have to do that,” Tony said. 

“Mr. Stark, please,” Peter said, “I don't mind, besides you were there for me and now I can return the favour, even if it’s in a small way.”

“Kid,” Tony said as he climbed in beside Peter, pulling him into a hug, “you never have to repay me for anything, I’m just proud to be your f- mentor.”

Tony internally cursed at his almost slip up and blamed it on the stress of the day. It had only nearly slipped out because he was thinking about how gut wrenching it would be to lose the kid that had become so much like a son to him. 

Peter’s breathing evened out as he slipped closer towards sleep. 

“Goodnight kiddo,” Tony whispered. 

“G’night dad,” Peter said followed by a snore. 

**Author's Note:**

> Please check out my other fics here on Ao3 and come find me on tumblr @


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